


Demon Brothers

by BlancThePotatoMage



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Demon Hanzo Shimada, Demon Junkrat | Jamison Fawkes, Demon Roadhog | Mako Rutleg, Dragon Hanzo Shimada, Fae Widowmaker | Amelie Lacroix, Former Demon Genji Shimada, Ghost Reinhardt Wilhelm, Hanamura setting, Hunter Ana Amari, Hunter Genji Shimada, Hunter Jack Morrison, Hunter Jesse McCree, Hunter Pharah | Fareeha Amari, Hunter Reinhardt Whilhelm, IDK really how to write but I promise its good, Jesse McCree & Genji Shimada Are Best Friends, M/M, MIA Ana Amari, McHanzo - Freeform, McHanzo Week, Post-Talon Widowmaker | Amélie Lacroix, Shrike | Ana Amari - Freeform, Slow Burn, The description is click biat, WIP Title, Witch Angela "Mercy" Ziegler, Witch Sombra (Overwatch), Wraith Gabriel Reyes, i hope anyway
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-11
Updated: 2019-01-28
Packaged: 2019-05-05 04:59:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14609874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlancThePotatoMage/pseuds/BlancThePotatoMage
Summary: In the cold and in the quiet, a single voice speaks; reaching through the waves of silence to reach the ears and sing a siren’s song; and in response eyes are opened to empty white abscess that they had become and suddenly the siren became a leader. A single voice that causes the push and pull of vast oceans, evoked such emotions one thought was ripped from them but really buried by miles and miles of regret.Regret that before. When they had a voice that could pull legions from the dirt, they didn’t use it out of fear. Out of fear of the silence and the deafening echoes a single voice could make; how far it would reach no matter the words said.It was only a matter of time before their voice would respond; only a matter of time before they blow the sands back over, and bury the both of them as regret once had.





	1. Sunlight

**Author's Note:**

> I do this for McHano and cause im bored, ill try my best to have consistent Posting times too~  
> I draw a little as well.

Hands and claws scrape stone with eerie hisses, protesting as the sharp digits dig themselves into the building, arms lifting the small body up the vertical climb in no less of a minute and almost without a sound. A tail deftly followed it’s master’s form, swinging slightly as the body maintained a light stance, swiftly making work of the shadows along the building, a mere ghost among all things.

The controlled breath would feign that the creature was of complete calm, seeping between the cracks of the everyday as if done often, but the faint sweeping of their tail gave way their troubled mind.

They made its way off, diving between the thin alleyway, feet making no sound upon the ground. Surely, the way they moved in silence, one could presume such a creature was one of ability – a fighter no less, yet it hid among the night’s cover.

Cladded boots made headway through the street, shouts of men barking orders and the faint, warm glow of torches dancing against the walls. Eyes searched high and low, tense shoulders and wide eyes of humans holding weapons, looking. No less the creature was due to the people’s panic.

They hadn’t meant to startle them so, but the creature’s hunger, deep and primal- had made them reckless in his endeavor, and almost had him caught with a body in his arms. They shouldn’t have to panic from the docile hunter’s needs; a simple sip of the human’s life force could keep such a hunger in check. But rumors, one such of a new profession had made caution turn to starvation.

Heroes they called themselves, but the creature knew them only as predatory hunters against his kind. Those inexperienced, seeking fortune and fame would come to hunt the docile creatures of the lands, and those who weigh themselves in gold, brandished in witch’s protective spells and experienced with potions would come to hunt those such as him.

Demons with insatiable appetites for human life and flesh, unstable temperaments that unleashed such a beast; those who could not be controlled for any matter would refuse to back down no matter the hunter. These were always the first to fall.

It was once himself that was controlled by such a powerful hunger, but years of flowing regret pulled what was left of his mind together, and progressively learned to hold back, to control or contain the primordial appetite. Still, grudges are hard to let go, as well as to wipe the hard stain an uncontrolled one would leave. A demon, docile or no, was a threat to lives at any interval, and thus humans retaliated.

Quickly the creature moved, slipping away through the streets once more as the guardsman passed. Tomorrow, a ‘hero’ will be called to slay him, and remove him from the town for good should he not leave soon. 

His ear flickered, a quiet breath of panic sucked in as the rise of orange flame once more caught in the corner of his eyes, reflecting off the pale grey scales of his skin, forcing him once more to slip away. No rest for the wicked perhaps. Gliding once more, he pushed away once more from his pursuers, scaling the cobbled walls of a house, slipping away again.

Slowly, midnight’s comforts was beginning to give way, dawn pushing its way through the ancient darkness and bring forth the colors of daylight. It sprinkled the town in the dawn, making its way to touch the creature’s skin and reveal his form. Daylight was poisonous to a demon in such a weak state, but the feeling of being human again was something not to be passed up, and the creature stood at full height upon the rooftop.

Sleek, oil black hair was painted in the lightest hues, and a once human face was kissed by their rays, eyes glowing faintly, surviving only through the last bits of nighttime, a gleaming pure white with no iris beyond the glowing orbs. Deep scars and markings of powerful meaning decorated an arm and partly a torso, a tail topped with fur rested between the bent legs and sharp talons of their feet. Horns protruded from the front of his forehead, longs and lightly curled marks of pride and symbol of power. He was truly a black sheep of beauty for a blackened creature of his kind.

But he could not bask for long before the rays would turn to needles and burn. So, quick as he came, he fled, freed from the enchantment of the sun, and once more breaking ground towards the stone walls of the town.

Though rumor of hunters would surely keep a creature far from the town’s borders, it was well known they were not cheap to rent, thus the tales of riches that would follow them; so the town had themselves set to the task of prevention, setting the stone that bordered their homes, warding off creatures who dared cross for human flesh.

But then again, it was simply a warning; a big sign to every creature that read the king of the lands had every penny to spend on a hunter and be rid their presence. But the demon he was placed these walls as familiar, and this refused to leave this home, no matter how unwelcome his presence is.

Silently, the creature fled beyond the structure, securing his safety once more in the woods of dark oak and blossom.

 

Shadow’s dance across the pale blue skin, the trees ever reaching beyond the demon’s head, shielding him from the now deadly rays of sunlight. The day would be considered beautiful, for the sky was an endless shade of blue, the sun’s brilliant warmth called animals from their homes, and the clouds only gracing the skies with their appearance every so often like a passing thought. His brother would love days like these, and once before, when his skin was of a paler complexion instead of the cold blue, he would agree.

Hunger is a deadly pull, feeling it well as it festers beneath his skin, making every sense sensitive to the very air he breathed. A rabbit beneath the ground, the nearby deer’s calm grazing, the tantalizingly sweet scent of human life nearby; it was all too much. His sharp claws gather dirt in his palm, breath heavy as he tried once more to pull back before he became lost. He hungered, and he needed to eat soon.

Still, the prospect of facing a hunter a town was a very real threat on his existence, and he forced himself from the sweet smell to focus on the deer. They weren’t far, nor too many, three doe and a buck, strong from the lush forest spring had brought; he had to pick carefully. Should he target a doe too close, the buck would let hell loose on him, and the doe wouldn’t last long without a buck to protect them, and this was without caution which was pregnant or with foal. A mother deer is one feared.

But still, one should satisfy him enough to pull a worthy disguise while the hunter resides in the walls, a trick only a most powerful demon like himself could pull for a long time. Still, it would not best a hunter for long; they had ruin with them that would tear past his weakened veil. It is still something he must risk.

His tail swept behind him, a balance that silenced his footfalls as he slid among the tree’s shadows, eyes sharpened to points as he focused on one solitary doe. Just to get close enough to pounce, he followed the far edges of the clearing; the creature had to make this quick, or he’d be injured in the sunlight.

In a glimpse of movement, the demon tackled the deer, hand grabbing the muzzle to prevent a call of distress as he tripped the doe with his tail, successfully pinning the deer. He couldn’t kill her, yet he knew he could not fully spare the deer its terror as it was suddenly sacrificed as a meal. Teeth made swift work, fore fangs sinking in the skin of the neck, taking wisps of golden life force in. It bucked beneath his touch, last movements for a fight before all strength would fade.

Finally the creature peeled back, a deer’s body still before him, the sweet scent of life force gone, blood dripped from his mouth and the wound; a last sign of what the demon had committed. In silence, he held vigil, a practice to thank the doe for sating him, though he knew no spirit would hear his sorrow.

“Still trying to hold to what little honor you have, aren’t you archer?” The demon lifted his gaze, the scent of garden fae filling him in as a beautiful female now stood in front of him. Her skin was a pale purple hue, and thorns and bushes made up her clothing, her hair a berry black, held up by a pony tail of vines.

“What of it to you, fae?’ The demon hissed, standing to his full height before the tall female; even now she was taller than him, but their uninterested expressions were mirrored as though facing an equal. 

“Hunting deer is beneath you, archer, or has the prospect of facing a predator scared you so?” The demon’s face gave nothing away, but they knew each other well enough to both rightfully fear the creature hunters. “You are starved to have to be taking such a lowly prize,” The demon was silent for a moment longer, and the fae’s thoughts found the mark. “You plan to go back in, don’t you?” She hissed.

“I have no choice fae, my hunger cannot be contained by forest animal alone!” 

“Hunger makes you reckless archer, no matter how skilled you may be,” It was matter of fact, indeed she understood, for no protesting was in her voice, but simple statements he would have to face. 

“Do you think I not understand such things!? I know what the rumors speak of these hunters, but that cannot deter me any longer!” He held his breath, letting his seething breath hiss out again; calmed. “It becomes harder to resist the sweet scents. I screwed up last time because of I wouldn’t let go, I’m slipping again Amelie.” 

The look of disdain reached the fae’s features, reaching only the conclusion of a knowing nod. A demon’s hunger was one dangerous to all, even to friends or other creatures such as her. She was risking something by even being near him, but she would not simply just leave a friend.

“I know archer, I can help you; keep an ear to the ground among the townfolk, tell you of the hunters, “She offered, reaching out to grasp his clawed hand. “You do not have to suffer alone Cherie,”

The demon stared at her, long and hard, sharing what only they understood in a moment of quiet before he finally pulled back.

“Thank you Amelie, I am within your debt for this,” The fae nodded, releasing her grip on the demon’s hand and disappearing, leaving the creature once more to himself and the deer.


	2. Chapter 2

 

“So, how long has it been since yah were ‘ere?” A deep voice chattered to his friend. A male hunter and another walked side by side down the sun-lit streets, one carrying a large brim Stetson that covered most his face, a scruffy brown beard seeming to be the only thing that could clearly be seen from their features; they wore a generous amount of black clothing, garnered with small items of gold and a silver laced revolver tucked safely to his side, a hunter, well known and prosperous if the large amount of protective enchantments said anything about it.

His friend was less dressed compared to his partner; a symbol covered oni mask hid away his image and a black and red hooded gi hid the rest of him away. Though significantly smaller than his friend, the man held himself well, light-footed and quieter compared to the loud outfit of the other man. The mask would move, blank expression staring at the buildings in a sense of familiar bewilderment, noting changes that had happened since he remembered them.

“A long, long time; yet even now it has a sense of home,” His voice echoed that of his stature and appearance, quiet yet dangerous; still the tone set one of fondness, even after quite some time. 

The other man chuckled, nudging the smaller male with his shoulder in a fond way.

“Don’ get all sappy on me now partner; though, I will admit, this place sure is pretty,” He contemplated. The streets were clean cobblestones, buildings neatly stacked along the side with friendly faces from shop to shop, the only litter that seemed to be here were the amount of pink cherry petals that graced the ground or fell from the sky. Spring truly brought out the sun-speckled town in a most delicate light, like a picture painted for a grand king. 

“You only say that because of the people you flirt,” The oni-masked man chuckled, playfully teasing the taller male who pulled a dramatic pose with his hand on his head.

“You wound me sweetheart~ Ya know I’mman honest man,” As if to confirm it he placed a hand on his heart and the other up in surrender. “In all seriousness, this place is beautiful, though I wouldn’t mind a pretty face or two,”

“You are such a one-trick pony Jesse,” The other chided once more, leaving the Stetson dressed hunter behind as he pulled towards the inn’s door, greeted by a small woman just beyond the counter. At first she seems off-put by the oni-dressed male’s appearance, but it was quickly pulled from her face as Jesse joined up behind, showing friend rather than foe.

“What can I do for you gentlemen,” She purred, a patient look of practiced words placed before them.

“Two rooms, one night, but we may stay longer,” The oni-masked male answered the smiling woman, who pulled two key from the rack behind her in acknowledgment before he handed over a small bag of payment in exchange.

“Rooms are right above dears, curfews for the restaurant are past ten o’clock and breakfast is free for any early birds,” 

Jesse gave a grateful nod of his hat to the female, a commercial worthy smile flashed from the shadow of his Stetson before leading his friend upstairs and passing on their key to each room.

“Hey Jesse, how about after we settle in a little I show you the best eats around here, there’s a shop nearby that makes the best ramen and I’m itching for a taste of it again. Maybe we can even pass by a bar or something,” The masked male offered, feeling his mouth water at the chance to once more eat his favorite foods. It had been too long since he’s had some, maybe even see if he can convince his friend into eating a spicy ramen bowl. He almost chuckled at the mere thought of his partner attempting.

The prospect of alcohol caused the gunslinger’s smile to grow, though he knew being drunk on the job wasn’t smart, he couldn’t pass up the food. Being on a traveler’s budget meant they often didn’t get full meals, he simply couldn’t stop the pleasant thoughts of food that drifted through his head.

“Tryin’ tah get me drunk on the job already, eh? Well, I’mma sucker fer ah good meal, but yer payin’.” The younger male nodded, and though his features were masked, Jesse could tell a smile reached them, feeling the way he radiated at the acceptance. He’s such a puppy sometimes.

Jesse entered his room, throwing his items in the nearest corner and promptly plopping straight into the neatly made bed’s sheets; what’s a small nap hurting? Jesse got comfortable, arms above his head as he leaned into a pillow, eyes staring at the arching wooden ceiling above him.

They came here on call of a demon feeding on the people of Hanamura, but each description varied. Most say it was a demon, one of classics, with horns and pointy tail, the whole shi-bang and covered in blood of people with eyes that could kill with a glance. But the others…they called the demon a dragon spirit, a traditional Japanese style one, where elegant scales painted their body, their face the essence of beauty and regality. That didn’t sound like any demon Jesse knew, and if his partner had any clue he made no note to tell Jesse.

The man sighed, rolling onto his shoulder, sinking deeper into the sheets as sleep claimed the tireless thoughts. Whatever this was, he’d get rid of it; it was his job after all.

 

The demon hissed to himself as he once more made his way over the walls, slipping quickly into the shadow of buildings as the scales began to burn under the sun. He just heard word back from the trusted fae, hearing word that the hunters would be making trouble at the bar and a local eatery. This was really too bad, as it was easy to lure drunken people from their homes and drain them without much fuss, but this all the more reason to be cautious.

The fact that they chose a bar to scout was reason enough to suggest they knew more about demon than that met the eye, but the very fact that there were two; one familiar with the town no less. This was trouble, and big trouble. He shouldn’t even be within the town’s walls at this point.

But his hunger was growling its warnings, he needed to eat.

The creature focused its strength to his disguise, forgoing his former appearance as a human. It took likeness to his demon counterpart, but there was enough a difference to dispel recognition, and suddenly he couldn’t wait to lead the hunters on.

Walking into the streets was simple enough; he went along the store’s covers, avoiding the direct sunlight with practice. His schooled face left him blended with the crowd, offering the short smile every now and then to feign kindness; simple enough. Idle wait was patience he could afford, just stringing up the perfect bait.

His eyes fan the street from the cover of a vender, his eyes landing on the two eyesores of partners that were the hunters. Boy did they stick out, not to mention the strange male beneath the oni mask; heck, they might not even be male. The other one however was definitely male, the sheer gruff stature of the male -despite the relaxed gait- displayed a certain roughness of troubled times, the porcupine one dared to call facial hair on their chin didn’t help any either.

Before he could be spotted, the creature disappeared into the crowd, intent on memorizing the features he would have to learn to avoid. They would not leave; not yet he knew, but it would not prevent him from feeding on the townsfolk. To keep on avoiding them, strength must be kept on his side and secure his wits were about him.

 

Jesse snorted, barely holding back the laughter that threatened to choke him on his own food as his friend across from him lazily place the chopsticks through the open mouth hole of the mask. Now, to him, this was probably one of the most hilarious things to see, to others, him snorting as loud as he was is most likely one of the most rude things he’s done. 

“What’s wrong Jesse,” The pure snarkiness of the comment almost had the hunter doubling over, only a hand on his mouth and the other on his hat prevent a sudden outbust of unprofessional giggle. Of course his friend knew how ridiculous he looked with the oni-mask, it didn’t stop him from removing it though; let alone let it stop him from capping on it. It was finally the hunter pulled himself back up, taking a deep breath and pulling his most convincing face.

“Jus’ got ah lil’ somethin’ ‘ere on yer face, right,” He paused, gesturing to the entirety of the oni-mask. “There,” His friend snorted before Jesse broke and both fell into laughter, the masked male taking a cloth to wipe away the food.

“Ah, I understand now Jesse,” the man continued, “though, I must say you are quick to judge when your beard could hold a week’s worth of cheetos without anyone knowing,” Both once more laughed, mock offence plastered to Jesse’s features and giving the hair a thoughtful brush with his hand.

“Jealous?~” He purred, basking as his friend once more laughed.

“Never cowboy,”

The two friends laughed again before paying and exiting the restaurant, stomachs full but not quite tired enough to call it a day and nap the digestion off. The bar was where they were to head next, a hot-spot for any demon sly enough to not instantly kill their prey; but if they were really smart, they wouldn’t bother staying much longer.

Despite the relaxed smiles and the still present atmosphere, both carried their protective ornaments, holding to them like life-lines, as they might as well be. Their gems would spell an end to any mythical being in their way, but a demon, particularly one that seems so elusive, would do their best to kill, or get rid of the hunters. 

Bottles of whiskey were placed onto the hunter’s table, dripping with condensation and a rich color each. Jesse popped them open, taking an eager sip from the bottle and sinking into the chair.

“We should remember what we’re here for Jesse, I won’t have you drunk on job,” The shorter male suddenly insisted before taking a sip from his own drink. “Again,” He added.

His words went unheard though as his friend lazily brushed it off with a grunt, enjoying another sip and sighing as it went down.

“If it’s any smart it won’t show its ugly mug ‘round anytime soon partner,” 

Their eyes scan the crowd, but it seemed Jesse was right on this occasion; the patrons and waiters carried calm atmospheres and displayed calm, non-aggressive behaviors. None seemed to be flirting, or others tagging after a drunk on their lonesome; in fact, many here were in groups, clusters of friends simply getting drunk with each other. It was like a demon hadn’t even been seen, or perhaps word of their arrivals truly spread fast.

But something was wrong, or had gone wrong; he could feel it, even if Jesse couldn’t tell. Something had put him on edge, just a feeling at the base of his neck. He took another drink, forcing down his nerves in a swallow before standing, alerting his partner.

“Keep here Jesse, I will survey the streets outside,” His partner raised a brow from beneath the steston but said nothing of protest, leaving the ninja to exit the bar.

The streets were clear as the day began to slink further into the horizon, a curfew no doubt, clearing the streets of their usual vendors and people other than the few fearless who stayed out. He began down the street, walking in the shadow of the buildings, senses blaring. Everything felt wrong, his outfit suddenly hot and clammy, the streets much too confined; he feared it might be his drink until he noticed the hot skin of his chest burn- his necklace.

An enchanted necklace to warn him of dangers; ones that frequented on causing him anxiety instead of any real warning. He ripped it from the outfit, glaring at the red hot lace through the mask and holding it up, watching it glisten. He followed its direction, running towards the feeling of dark aura down the street; but the necklace was growing cold, even as he turned down the alley way, he was left with nothing but the former sense of foreboding on his spine.

His eyes stare at what was left in their wake, a poor woman unconscious and left with the slight bleeding from her neck. Remotely, checked for a pulse and was genuinely surprised when he found her heart still beating.

Quickly, he picked her up, carrying her from the alley and to the nearest guards he could find, explaining everything he could and telling them to take her. He was glad they listened, as so many could be brash with his features covered like his; securing the lady’s safety, he was off again to revisit the bar and tell Jesse of his findings.

As quickly as night began its reign, guards had begun commanding an immediate curfew after the attack, and leaving both hunters on-guard. Nothing about thins was relaxed anymore, no more laughing or joking; the streets once friendly seemed to close in on its guests and snarl at every step.

Night was another man’s kingdom after all, where beasts and creature were finally free to explore; they were now the strangers in once familiar homes.

Both hunters searched every nook and cranny with the patrolling guards, but the demon made the smart choice and slunk away. The only luck at finding the creature it would seem would be to venture into the forest, where both assumed the demon and many others were living; but it was too big, and it was more likely the demon was still here, pretending to be human.

No sleep would be caught tonight. Not until that creature was caught.


	3. Struggle

The demon crawled his way through moonlight, escaping the angry lights of midnight torches as he moved further and further from the town walls. There was nothing savory about the meal, nothing truly taken in, if anything it fed the need to eat by next light. There was too little, but he had almost taken too much, it wasn’t enough, it didn’t feel like enough to satisfy him. There was an ache only human soul could plunder, and he was running away again.

 

Him, a powerful arch-demon; running like a coward. He felt disgusting, both by the powerful need and the lack of strength. He hadn’t the will to push down hunger, but he hadn’t the strength to satisfy it, how pathetic.

 

The demon landed in the clearing, trees giving way to one of the only forested body of water left untouched. A pond, almost big enough to be a lake, untouched by human’s filth; a lucky enough occurrence to consider something made it that way. 

 

But the demon already knew. Lakes like these were protected by kind witches or groves of fae for the fairy tale creatures that lived in forests nearby, a potent spell that hid them from human and hunter’s sight. It was brilliant.

 

He knelt at the bank, taking a scoop of water in his hand and taking a drink from the palm. Taking the rest, he poured it over his face, washing away the distressing thoughts and painful hunger, for once peeling back. He was sated, for now.

 

“Archer, it’s good to see you at my waters again,” A voice pierced the silence as a woman stepped from the bushes. Her body was covered in scales, thick, curled horns cupping the sculpture of her face and a faint yet warm glow radiated from her chest; Satya the necromancer. The demon momentarily paused, glancing back at the lovely creature before returning his face to the waters without a word.

 

His hands dipped into the water, yet again disturbing its reflection and using it to run over his hair, releasing what built up grime the long locks held. Satya sat next to him on the bank, staring at the black glass of water as it settled, revealing their features once more to the painted reflection.

 

“What do you think they see Archer? When they look at us,” He was silent. “Our ancestors. Our features? Perhaps the actions we’ve committed, etched in each of our scars.” The demon stopped, peeling back from the edge and standing, attempting to walk away from the conversation. This is why he shouldn’t visit the water.

 

“You can’t pretend for long Archer. Amelie told me,” The demon stopped, fists clenched tight at his sides, throwing a glare at her over his shoulder. “About the hunters, about you… You’re starving, aren’t you Archer?” 

 

“Don’t think you know me Summoner!” The demon growled, spinning on his feet to glare directly at her. “Don’t think we don’t deserve this! Being monsters! Amelie doesn’t! But us, what we are is what we’ve become. It’s because of beasts like us; those like her are hiding away! We don’t deserve anything! And I don’t need your pity to realize that! I deserve to starve!” He spat.

 

“No! No you do not archer. I want to help you, we want to help you. At least let us do that for the other’s sake,” Satya dealt, her hard stare boring back into him. “Let us hurt no more,”

 

The demon’s fingers dug into his palms, minding whirling to spit more acidic words at her, yell, hiss, he was a demon who deserved no pity; but this was only the monster’s hunger talking. Deep breaths were taken in, considering Satya’s offer again with a humane mind. His glare was still hard set, but the expression faltered, and he averted his gaze, admitting defeat.

 

“Alright Summoner, what would you have me do?” The necromancer purred, a smile holding to her features as she summoned a portal to her side. 

 

“I suggest we get ourselves some help, I know a witch who would love to mess with some hunter’s charms,”

 

The demon held her stare, the expression the necromancer held all too inviting and the portal making him uncomfortable. He knew who she was talking of, talking of the friends and other creatures beyond the frame, those who stare with pity. This was his only choice for survival if he was going to mess with the hunters.

 

With hesitant steps, he entered the glowing entrance, and was thrown headfirst into another world, the necromancer close behind.

 

Cracked castle walls bordered his sights, large holes in the ceiling producing the small amount of illumination that seeped through. The halls echoed with a resounding sound of silence. It was like only ghosts live here. The demon even tried to find a sign of life, perking his fanned ears, nose taking a tentative scent of the dusty air.

 

He’d never been on this side of the portal, as usually the ones who pass through come on their own accord with the necromancer. 

 

He gave the female a curious glance and she simply smiled, walking away and using her magic to ignite a candle. In a flash, the candles were set aflame, a breath of new scents invading his senses as the castle burst to life.

 

A suit of armor was filled with blue fire of a spirit, sparks from the new born flames burst forth and formed up a body of another demon, the shadows melted together, peeling back from each wall and creating a wraith’s mask.

 

He was caught off-guard by the sudden bodies, his glowing eyes lost to shock as yet another revealed herself in a pit of smoke; the witch. A black cloak concealed her features, a skull included, painted in neon strips of pink that somehow glowed brighter than the moonlight that showered the group.

 

A possessed suit of armor, a wraith, a witch, two demons, and a fae now stood before him as fully formed figures, all eyes on him and Satya.

 

“Welcome to the group archer,” Satya smiled, joining the center of the group like a large centerpiece to the castle. “Let’s get acquainted,”

 

The demon from the candles popped forward first, his movements sporadic and jumpy, his body coiled and shivering every so often. He was skinny, terribly so, and half his limbs were replaced by enchanted motor replacements; ones the archer could presume were gifted from the witch.

 

“So you’re that arrow-man everyone’s talking ‘bout,” The demon spoke, getting uncomfortably close to the archer’s face. His voice was just like his looks, something shrill and excitable as a small child’s, only tainted by an Australian accent. That was just confusing. “Nice tah finally meet another demon! Everyone else is so boring here, but hopefully you’re not like that. Yah can call me Jamie by the way,”

 

The archer retracted his hand quickly as it was grabbed, giving a glare as he backed slightly from the sporadic creature’s actions.

 

“Pleasure,” He greeted shortly, turning his gaze to the others and bowing deeply. “The archer, at your service,”

 

“/The/ archer? Ain’t yah got a real name?” The smaller demon protested, only stopped by a disturbingly quiet presence behind him placing a hand on his back and yanking him back like a dog on leash. 

 

They were large, too large to be so silent and quick when they moved. His face was covered by a pig’s mask and wore something similar to the smaller demon’s aesthetic, homemade and junky. Large round husks replaced the pig mask’s eyes, ones that bore straight into the archer’s and would send chills down anyone’s spines.

 

The others didn’t seem so keen on introducing themselves to the archer, as even the wraith seemed apprehensive. No matter where you are, or what you are, a demon is dangerous, and thus their concerns where ever so justified.

 

“Sorry about our friend there, he can be a little…enthusiastic at times,” The witch spoke up, a thick latino accent echoing from the painted skull of her’s. “Im the witch, Sombra,” She gave a bow, one that mocked the demon’s formality with a deep and clumsy bend at her hips and hand to her chest. Perhaps this was a mistake.

 

“My friendo here is Reaper, the wraith, and the big ghostly guy is Wilhelm. It’s nice to meet you, after all, you have quite the reputation,” You could hear the smirk in her voice, ignoring it only to gain a proper greeting from the large blue ghost, a hammer now in his hands and a smile framed around his ghostly beard; only acquainted by the deep look of pity he resented.

 

“It will be a pleasure working with you,” He stated simply, schooling his expression once more to maintain the hissing anger that seethed. What exactly did she know about him that would call for him to have any kind of ‘reputation’?

 

Satya smiled, as if a relief had been swept off her shoulders. 

 

“Well, now that we’ve been familiarized, I am here to say we do have reason for bringing the archer here,” Satya stated, once more facing her friends, “We have a hunter problem in the archer’s home town, and eventually it will starve the demon,” She explained, the feeling of tension raising in the air as she spoke, some throwing cautious glares the demon’s way, even the other demon.

 

“If we do not get rid of these hunters, it will spell disaster and lives, both human and creature’s, will be lost. This is why we need your help. We can’t have my friend simply captured, that’s a fate too cruel no matter who they are, but we can convince the hunters off field,”

 

“And if we can’t?” The deep, gruff voice of the wraith spoke forth, “What if we can’t get them to leave?” He growled, only speaking what everyone else knew.

 

“We cannot kill them, but it is possible to get them to seal a contract with the witch or the archer and have them never return,” She explained. The lesser demon’s eyes widened, released from the large creature’s grip and once more free.

 

“Wait, you’re saying that they can make contract with ‘im? But only the big demons can do that! He’s much too small to be able to do- Mph!” His shrill vocals were once more cut off by the larger demon, earning thanks from the summoner as she started up again.

 

“For now, we will need to ensure the archer’s safety until we can confirm they will not be leaving and before we take such drastic measures. For now, we must keep his hunger at bay,” 

 

The others still were giving skeptical looks, as far as one could tell from the masked faces; despite understanding the riskiness of the situation it still created the question- why? Hunters are bad news, two are just a bigger problem; it would just be best to let the archer be captured and save the trouble.

 

But there, they also sympathized, a fate to the hunter’s hand was cruel, bound to no extent to what torture one evoke upon a creature. It was just a bad idea to get on the demon’s bad side, -if he was as powerful to wield magic like Satya stated, what he was seemed impossible for acting so docile while so hungry. 

 

The wraith nodded, answering in silence for the group and thus retracting his questions. Satya was a kind creature, necromancer or else, she knew what she was doing enough for him to trust her.

 

“Amile, tell us what you know,” He invited, eyes to the garden fae as she responded.

 

“There are two, both heavily armed in charms and potions, and both are wielders to weapons I can presume are specialized to certain creature’s defenses. One a sword I haven’t seen unsheathed and the other using a revolver and a crossbow. The one wears a large Stetson, covers his eyes and is rather…scruffy looking. Though his outfit is still rather new and well repaired, it tells us he’s been on his own before, or at least on the road for some time.

 

The other is shorter, wears an oni mask and black traditional gi; mentioned he’d been to the Hanamura home town once. They both seem to like to drink, but the oni-masked man would seem like the type to be careful; the other less so. Either way, both seem formidable and skilled in their hunt, we must maintain our distance if we are to engage and I’d prefer it if we are able to keep contact with a hearing spell from the witch.

 

Should the worst come, our summoner will be able to create portals to aid our escape or confuse them. In the long run, I say we have a chance of getting rid of them,”

 

The others listened intently, the demon himself all ears to the briefing. Finally, she pulled a parchment from her attire, spreading it out for the others to see and reveal it as a map; placing it on the floor, she gave a nod to the witch of the room.

 

The witch stepped forward, their fingers glistening an unnatural pink magic. They slunk out like streams, enchanting the paper, and revealing a magic-hue hologram of the paper, a 3D map of the small town. Amilie placed a finger to one of the buildings.

 

“That is where they are staying for now,” She explained, the wisps of magic forming a solid dot where her finger left, making it more prominent among the buildings. “And this is what they have covered,” Her finger dotted the bar they had visited, as well as the ramen shop.

 

The other studied the map, watching Amilie trace the sightings and have them engrain to the parchment. They were skilled if they had already scouted a bar, and with Amilie’s words on the predators’ equipment they were in for trouble.

 

“I can disable the charms for some time if one of us needs to get close, and introduce you to some mist to help with disguises,” The witch offered, a slight accent in her words showing just how much they spoke like a chattering mocking bird, a curious and mischievous bounce in them that the demon felt too acquainted with. He figured he should speak.

 

“Hopefully we will not have to approach them at all and they’d leave to a simple scare,”

 

“I wouldn’t think so archer, if they are as set as they seem, surely they are a part of an organization of hunters,” the blue glowing inputted, shifting in the heavy armor as him arm brushed him own hunters emblem; an ‘O’ with an upside down ‘v’ in the middle, split down the curve. “We scare them, and more will come to kill you,” He muttered darkly, “You have run them off before, but it resulted in consequences beyond repairing,”

 

The Summoner nodded, understanding the great ghost’s words. Her expression fell flat, trying to pull together a plan that could work. 

 

“We have no choice but to get close with them, and unfortunately that means we will have no choice but having only the archer in the city walls. We all will stick out to them, magic or not, and with a bunch of unfamiliar faces suddenly joining, they will notice if they are as truly professional as they seem,” 

 

The archer nodded, tail swishing the floor to voice the discomfort of all this. He wasn’t quite the good actor, so to say, for as much as he could put on a mask, it was always an expressionless façade used to deter other’s company. It was easier to convince drunks to follow him after all and he relied heavily on his looks. 

 

“We can convince them it’s a vampire give them a decoy, something small and sneaky, but similar and mistakable with a demon’s work,” The wraith suggested, his raspy voice perturbing the silence. “If the archer can gain their trust, then they’ll think nothing of it and leave,” The others seemed to nod, but once more the shrill voiced demon stopped the idea.

 

“Won’t they jus’ be able tah tell the diff’ if they were so professional? I mean, demon only suck souls, so they still look like healthy meat bags when yah done, besides, where we gon’ get a vampire?” 

 

Once more the plan was thrown away, leaving the team grumbling. More ideas were tossed into the basket, each time being rejected by the fact that these people were indeed part of a hunter organization and not some random stranger they could send screaming; and each idea left the archer feeling more and more agitated, he didn’t have the time to stay and banter, the night was close to slumber, and it left him in a somber mood. He’d had enough.

 

“We could lure them into the forest, either change them into creatures like us, or have the witch brainwash them and have them on their leave,” The archer finally suggested, but the group knew full well of the complications of that.

 

“We can’t do that archer, having them join as creatures doesn’t always guarantee our safety and brainwashing them takes enough time to set off alarms,” The witch complained, crossing her arms from beneath the black coat.

 

“But you are not unwilling?” He asked. The witch bit her lip, no then. “If we can give them enough alarm to have them extend the day even further, then we are given enough time to brainwash them. A week at most, correct?” Once more the was quiet, not really wanting to move forward with the risky plan, but then again, what choice wasn’t going to be tricky?

 

“I think we should give it a shot,” The burning demon bounced, a snaggle-toothed smile glancing around to the others.

 

Finally, they nodded, and the date was set. The hunters would become the hunted tonight, for prey has found high grounds in the never ending swell of the demolishing seas.


	4. Chapter 4

It is said demons cannot dream, but it does not mean they are safe from nightmares. Like darkness, demons are plagued by memories, engulfing them in the illusion of the situation, having them experience again and again why they became a demon in the first place, how it happened, and never once is it pleasant.

The dragon demon stood tall and proud, regal air on their features, with a glare so cold it could cut steel. It was their birth right after all, to stand tall and proud, to lead a nation with both fear and poise; a might so strong one quivers at the thought of such emperors among them. Their family was one of dragons, said to be guarded by the ancient figures and grace the leaders with their power, and for a little, the first born believed this.

That is, until their father revealed what truly happens to a Shimada who’ve been endowed with their power.

To call the demon’s father a cruel man would be an understatement, for their heart was darker than any demon the first born had seen. Harsh training dictated the firstborn’s day with cruel techniques involving agonizing blows, and torture devised on making him stronger, make him a better leader for their clan.

He should of known this was a lie. But it was too late when it happened, for their father fell sick. In pain, a death agonizing and slow, something slipped, sympathy, pain, sorrow; emotions the heir thought their father did not posses in him. But there it was, as his soul came forth, the true owner of the sickened body. The demon the heir had called father abandoning the sickened host, leaving his father to explain to the heir just what their reality was in their last moments.

The truth? The truth was that the magical deities they called dragons were in fact demons, and once the heir would go forth to claim his crown, both he and his sibling would be overthrown by the creatures that had been dormant for so long in them.

With their father dying, the heir had to make a choice, and was forced to draw blade to his brother. He had to send the demon away, chase it out of his brother’s body and endow it into the weapon so they can’t take their brother.

He enchanted the family blade, the glint of the edge glimmering like pristine glass, and met with his brother in the main hall. With great reluctance, he swung, and hit.

He shouldn’t have gone that far… He’d gone too far. The blood coated him, his body, his little brother’s body. He could hear them, their voice, so soft, yet so damaged, it sounded like death.

“Anija?” The heir wanted to scream, put the brother out of his misery, run, anything other than hear that voice speak. It was so filled with disbelief, with betrayal, with hurt. The firstborn felt nauseous, his stomach curling in painful twists as guilt threatened to have him hurl. He screamed, the first born screamed, drowning out the voice of his brother as he slashed again, screaming, screaming as he slammed the demon infused blade again and again; feeling both pain of his heart and the pain of his brother.

It hurt, the betrayal, it was rage and guilt on his tongue, a toxic mess that swelled his throat and made it hard to breath. He was sure his brother was quiet now, but he couldn’t stop, he couldn’t stop screaming.

He was sure his blood had boiled from his body, the searing sound flooding from his ears in thick red streams as he shifted. Unworthy, a mockery, traitor, they murmured whispers in his head, filling them with continuous thoughts, round and round and round. His head felt as if it had cracked open, blood smothering his lungs, smothering the lights, ripping his tendons and bones apart beneath his very skin.

The cold quickly wrapped him, a sudden whisk as the demons stepped back to study what they had created, to study what the heir had become upon murdering his brother. Like them, he was a demon, shaped in the way that mimicked the dragons that had sworn to protect him, to protect his brother, to protect his father. A mockery of their power and a mockery of them, as it was the firstborn’s fault that now no Shimada lived.

The demon’s presence became known quickly, and suddenly, the empty feeling of sorrow like a black hole filling their freezing body, and it hungered. The firstborn’s mind was quickly sucked into the pit, and it left him empty, for all that was left was the need to feel whole again.

The scents of souls drew him, and he succumbed to the demands. 

One by one, the first born devoured the family’s servants, advisors, and home, leaving the castle feeling as empty as the demon felt. A sickness that never left.

>>>

The demon’s teeth clamped to his lip, eyes down to the ground as he mindlessly picked his groceries with disinterest, ears only perked to the hunters that talked just a little from his position. Anxiety tangled his stomach like hot coils as fear wrapped him. No matter the precaution the others would take, it would rely on him solely to get close to the hunters; it was the only way to secure his safety. Yet, he could not argue the way he paled considerably with the thought. 

There’s only one direction he can take, and that’s through. So, with great hesitation, he stopped his prodding and proceeded. He slipped away, disappearing between buildings where trash cans sat to the side. The crunch of a bag wasn’t far, and the archer held still, waiting.

A young male dragged in a bag, tossing it into the chrome can without regard for the loud noise. The archer held his back to them, but he could already smell them, and the deep pull of hunger beginning to rise. It didn’t take long for the boy to notice the archer.

“Hey, you aren’t really supposed to be here sir,” The foolish boy’s voice bluntly told the demon. The archer turned, deep grey eyes pinning him. The new sense of foreboding was choking; the boy was left unable to move. “Sir?” Fear. The demon could smell it, the new wave of sweat from such a sweet soul.

The villagers have been told to be wary, the boy should’ve listened. 

Like ash, the archers disguise fell, revealing the demon’s grey skin and contorted legs, new, sharp teeth glistening with drool, a cruel hunger in their eyes. Before he could scream the demon had him pinned, tight claws on their wrists and his teeth sheathing themselves into his neck, blood set free. Their voice was left to mere whispers, unable to cry out as the thin wisps of gold fed the demon.

‘Only a little,’ The demon reminded himself, the unsettling feeling the hunger had left was melting to the warmness of satisfying himself. It was dizzyingly pleasant, and if he were informed well, it should paralyze the young male, if not exhausting. It was their remade biology after all; calmer prey was easier to pin down, like a paralyzing poison that sapped energy.

He couldn’t keep feeding, the demon growled against the boy’s skin, but peeled away, trails of blood and saliva left on the nape as he once more slipped away, barely taking a glance back to catch the image of the masked hunter now running in; the demon gone and a half-conscious victim left behind.

‘More’ The unsettling voice begged, pushing to demon again to feed as he ran his tongue along his lips. Keep dodging the hunters, strike again, repeatedly, make the message clear; the demon is toying with them and this town is his, in a place hunters have to right no be. The hunters were fast, but the demon was both faster and more agile, slipping away from their tracking thanks to the strong disguise magic the witch helped him with.

He struck, quick with his tongue pressed to the opening he made with his teeth, eating the soul away from the unlucky citizen who just happened to be home. Her life forced was delightfully fermented by her harsh environment, and it took great control to leave her. But he could feel it; he was getting faster, much stronger as he fed. He would need all he could get if Reinhardt was right about what the next move the hunters would take.

“Traps,” The ghost had reminded him, something like concern and disapproval in his voice. “Once they realize they’re going to be facing a bigger enemy than what they thought, traps are going to be set, bait wild drunks with cash to stumble into precise feeding requirements to draw him out. It’s going to harder since we’re striking in sunlight, so take what you need archer,”

The words taken with great heed, the demon dived from the roof top, quickly burying his teeth into the unsuspecting nape and crashing both into the ground. It wasn’t always alleyways that were empty, and though farmers weren’t ideal, it’d get the message across all the same.

His ears pricked again, twitching in tandem to the barley heard footsteps that approached. How did they follow him so fast?! The demon abandoned his feed, dashing away on all fours in his demonic form, dashing back into town and slipping in through an open window without so much of a whisper. 

Yet it followed. The footsteps became deafening in his ears, making the demon realize all too well how fast this hunter had to be to remain so close. The archer ran, quickly slipping into his disguise as he continued to sprint away, suddenly slamming his body into the crowd of the open market and slipping to the side. The archer’s face quickly locked into a stoic expression, weaving in the crowd of people and often stopping to peer at shops like the people around him.

The footsteps were drowned out by the humans’ noises, and he only hoped he looked normal as he paid for an apple he couldn’t even eat. He was safe, the predator would’ve passed and the demon had taken in three people’s souls, a healthy feed. But then, a bird chirped, a berry black raven staring down at him, a warning, Amielie warning him the hunter was too close. 

He locked eyes with the bird, unsteady silence dancing between them as a hand grabbed his shoulder. On instinct, he whirled, grabbing the wrist that dared to touch him and yanking it away, a deep set glare staring into the hunter’s masked face.

“Hanzo?” The name forced the demon to pause, inches away from slamming the predator to the ground and dashing off. That name. He had not heard in a long time, much too long a time. 

The archer’s eyes widen, mouth left hanging on words, disbelief tightening his throat faster than the anxiety that housed a snake in his belly. It was impossible, but there was so few that called him that nowadays, so few that would know his name before the day he became a demon. This couldn’t be his brother.

“How do you know my name,” The archer hissed, hand tightening on the hunter’s wrist, his dark eyes narrowing like points and teeth clenched. The demon’s eyes pleaded that this wasn’t true. His brother, a hunter; the archer, a demon. They were here to kill him, and frankly, the archer felt as if he should let him. After what he did, what he was, what he was doing.

“Anija,” Native tongue, the same voice he knew long ago curling around the word like it was foreign, like it hadn’t been in years, yet feeling all the more at home. 

The archer let go of his wrist, and slowly the hunter peeled back, giving the demon more room, and removed the oni mask. Light grey eyes stared back at him from a pale, scarred face, mimicking the demon’s expression with mastered melancholy.

“You died…I killed you,” The archer’s voice was barely above a whisper, afraid to break the sudden stillness that engulfed them. Like there was no one else, like reality had suddenly sealed all its windows and doors to no escape. His brother was alive, standing right in front of him. It was both a nightmare and a dream.

The brother shook his head, hand raised to set on his shoulder, but the archer flinched back, and they hesitated.

“No Hanzo, it’s Genji. I’m alive,” He tried, once more attempting to get close to his brother. “I survived Hanzo,” The brother’s eyes were pleading, finally setting his hand on the archer’s shoulders, showing him he was really there. But the demon shook his head, backing away.

It couldn’t be true, this was some sick kind of joke his mind was trying to play; his brother couldn’t be alive. Yet, here he was, a hand on Hanzo’s shoulder, pleading. The archer backed away, the hunter trying to advance after him.

“You are dead. I killed you. This is some sick kind of hallucination,” Hanzo felt sick, but his voice was starting to rise, and street’s parting was welcoming him to disappear into the crowd again. The bile in his throat rose as the hunter dared take another step close, his eyes blurring with unshed tears yet his glare strong. He would not be tricked like this. Hanzo swerved, dashing away once again, out-maneuvering the hunter that tried to follow after him. In a moment, the archer had disappeared, and his brother was left staring into the crowd.

**Author's Note:**

> Plz notify me if I need to spell check something or other, criticism is needed!


End file.
